


Unmake Our Hurricanes (like today never happened)

by newtypeshadow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Canonical Character Death, Fix-It, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: The night Tony dies, Steve dreams of him. He dreams ofallof them. Everyone’s alive—and happy.“It’s great, isn’t it?” Tony says, and puts his arm around Steve’s waist a lot like a lover would, his body forming a firm, warm line along Steve’s side that he can’t help leaning into. “We could’ve had that, if we’d played our cards right.”“It’s true,” Natasha says.----Steve dreams Tony and Natasha give him a chance to replay the hand they were dealt, and a roadmap to help him do it right.He hopes it wasn't just a dream.





	Unmake Our Hurricanes (like today never happened)

**Author's Note:**

> Parenthetical title is a Switchfoot lyric from ["Dare You to Move"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jE-Krlqi4fk). It was a toss-up whether it would come from that song or ["This is Your Life"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sx9RcI_EueM).

The night Tony dies, Steve dreams of him. He dreams of _all_ of them.

It’s the same day the Avengers just lived through in 2023, but they’re all _alive_, and _happy_, having a party at the Tower. Steve’s on the balcony watching through the closed glass doors, empty beer bottle in hand, and trying to swallow the lump in his throat and not blink. He recognizes a lot of people from the battle at the Compound whose names he hasn’t yet had a chance to learn.

What hurts, the joy and pain that sting his eyes, is seeing Thor looking as fit and boisterous as he was when they first met, and Natasha cuddled up with Bruce on a couch, and Tony ruffling an older Peter Parker’s hair with obvious fatherly affection before looking up, seeing Steve, and coming out to join him.

“It’s great, isn’t it?” Tony says, and puts his arm around Steve’s waist a lot like a lover would, his body forming a firm, warm line along Steve’s side that he can’t help leaning into. “We could’ve had that, if we’d played our cards right. That could’ve been us.”

Steve flinches, and the tears fall. He doesn’t wipe his eyes. If he does, he’ll miss seeing this, and too many times has Steve closed his eyes and opened them, what feels like a moment later, to find the foundations of his world have changed, are _wrong_, and the people he loves are dead or just…gone in a cloud of ash. He knows this happier world isn’t real, probably not _anywhere_, but he wants it. If he could stay in this dream forever, or make this dream his reality, he would.

“This too could be yours,” Bucky says like an announcer as he jumps down from nowhere to land on Steve’s other side. He winks. “But only if you get your head out’cher ass, Stevie.”

_‘That’s America’s ass’_ pops into Steve’s head in Tony’s teasing lilt. His chest aches.

Bucky’s Avengers gear blips into into casual-wear fit for the party a moment later, and Tony wolf whistles. “Lookin good, good lookin. Trying to impress someone? Anyone we know?”

Bucky rolls his eyes, steps _close_, and puts a proprietary hand on Steve’s stomach with a metal arm Steve’s never seen.

His stomach swoops.

“You know damned well who,” Bucky says with a grin and…kisses Tony. On the mouth. Like he’s done it a million times and wants to do it a million more. And Tony kisses _back_—but keeps his arm around Steve, trapping him in the front row of a fantasy he’s never even thought to have before. The dream shifts to something warm and sensual but with the same undertone of longing Steve’s felt all night. He’s entertained fantasies of dating Bucky, and dating Tony, but never of the two dating each other, which he realizes now was a grave oversight. They look gorgeous together. They _sound_ gorgeous together. The kiss eases into something sweet, and their lips separate…but then come together again for a quick, chaste peck, like they’re tethered to each other, like they just couldn’t help themselves.

When Bucky pulls back far enough to look at Steve’s face, he laughs—laughs in a way Steve hasn’t seen him laugh since two days before he shipped out, like he’s entirely in this moment, no part of him trapped in a past that haunts them both. “Don’t look so surprised, doll,” he says, and reels Steve in for a kiss too.

Steve feels heat all the way down to his toes. He still doesn’t close his eyes. He never wants this kiss to end—but it does, and Tony raises an eyebrow at Steve when it does. “So you kiss _him_ when he comes out here, but not me?”

Steve’s breath stutters. “I… I didn’t know I could.”

Tony huffs with amusement. “There are a lot of things you could’ve done—you just never asked.”

It’s a dream, Steve knows it’s a dream, but the implication still hurts: He and Tony could’ve _been_ something if Steve had asked. But he didn’t, he never said anything, and once again, Steve ran out of time.

When Steve glances at Bucky, seeking…confirmation? Some explanation? Bucky doesn’t seem surprised at anything Tony’s said.

“C’mere,” Tony says, and lifts his chin in invitation.

Steve gathers his courage, leans down, and kisses Tony. Bucky had kissed like he was leading Steve across a dance floor. Tony kisses like they’re teaming up against Thor in a ridiculous argument, control of the conversation shifting back and forth seamlessly between them.

“Better,” Tony says when he pulls away to breathe, and licks his lips.

Steve nods but doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if he’s capable of speech right now. This dream is everything he’s ever wanted for himself, for the Avengers, even for the nine realms—because it’s clear things are better here for everyone: on Earth and in space and on Asgard. He looks between the two men he’s secretly been in love with for years now, and out into the party, and then, because he can, he drops his beer bottle and wraps his arms around Tony and Bucky, draws them close and holds them, feels their warmth and tries to memorize it even as he starts crying again because this isn’t real, and Tony’s dead, and this will _never_ be real, and even though it was never a possibility to begin with, the idea that it could’ve been if he’d done things differently _hurts_.

“Aw, Stevie,” Bucky croons. Tony is rubbing Steve’s back, and Bucky’s metal hand, as warm as regular skin, is cupping the back of Steve’s neck like an anchor to the moment, to them.

“I wish this were real,” Steve whispers.

He cries into Tony’s hair, squinching his eyes shut to keep them safe.

That was a mistake.

Because when he opens them the warmth of the hug remains, but Tony is gone, Bucky is gone, the Tower is gone, _everything_ is gone, and he’s standing in ankle-deep water under an alien sky that stretches across the orange horizon in every direction. Steve wipes his eyes and tries not to hate himself for losing that dream of what could’ve been.

“They weren’t kidding,” Tony says, suddenly beside him, looking as young as he was the day they met on the helicarrier. Tony’s hands are in his pockets and he’s gazing out at the desolate landscape with Steve like the right hand he was before Steve ruined everything. “That really could’ve been us. Still can be, if you’re willing to work for it.”

“It’s true,” Natasha says, suddenly on Steve’s left. She looks younger too, hair the length and vibrant red it used to be.

“Time has these things called nexus points,” Tony explains. “They’re the butterfly flap in the butterfly effect that ends in a hurricane down the line. We had a lot of ‘em—decisions, things said or not said, staying together or splitting up…and we almost always chose wrong. If we’d been a team, if we’d been…family. If we’d reached out, asked for help, worked with Asgard and the Guardians and the Ravagers before things got dicey… Well. Thanos would lose and the half the universe wouldn’t vanish.”

Natasha picks up the thread. “Us meeting, forming the Avengers, that’s the first nexus point after you woke up.”

“That part was good. We could’ve been friendlier right off the bat, maybe, but _after_, that’s—that was our first mistake.” Tony looks down and away, but Steve still catches the wistfulness on his face.

“We went our separate ways,” Steve realizes.

Tony had invited them all to live in the Tower, even started building them apartments on entire floors, and instead they’d all left. Tony had still built those floors. And they used them for a year, hunting down the scepter, after which they all planned to leave again. Ultron was the last enemy they fought together; Natasha wasn’t at the battle against Thanos at the destroyed Compound. She’d been dead.

Tony nods, and Natasha says, “Exactly. We didn’t prioritize the team. We didn’t value the opportunity we’d been given. We threw it away, and didn’t look back or call for help even when we needed it.”

“And then we weren’t ready for the hurricane,” Tony says. “We can send you back to the Battle of New York. We gave you something so you know you’re coming up on a nexus point. It can see all our possible futures, and it’ll loop time until you do whatever thing it is that gets us one of the good endings. Sounds easy, but definitely won’t be a walk in the park.”

“It’ll be a lot harder than it sounds,” Natasha confirms. “You’re going to want to do things the way you did before. They’ll feel comfortable, or safe, or let you keep your pride, and you can’t do them again, not if you want time to move forward. You’ll be stuck living those same decisions over and over until you make the best choice for the universe, not just the best choice for you.”

“It won’t be like _Groundhog Day_,” Tony says, “the loop won’t make you re-live the entire day. Usually, anyway. It’ll loop you back to the beginning of the window of opportunity for that nexus point. Some windows will be a few seconds long—a yes where you said no before, something simple—but others could last hours or, uh, days, where you’ll have a lot of smaller, buildup decisions to make before you even _get_ to the nexus point. Sometimes the thing you need to do won’t even be an option until you get the buildup right.”

“Or you’ll need to do something much different from your routine, like ask someone to lunch even though you’re not that hungry, or walk part of your morning run instead of sprinting the whole thing. You’ll be able to feel it though. You’ll know when you’re getting closer to making the right decisions. Do it enough and the right decisions will start to feel intuitive.”

Steve nods to show he understands. He’s beginning to wonder whether this is a dream or a vision. Natasha died to get the soul stone, and Tony died using all six stones, and when he went to sleep at Tony’s farmhouse, it was holding a briefcase of the stones in his gauntleted hand with the fingers locked in place and people guarding his door and the house. He’s not wielding the stones, he knows that. But the stones have minds of their own, and spheres of influence—as they learned dealing with the scepter—and Steve has learned the universe is a lot bigger and crazier than even waking up seventy years in the future, so maybe…maybe this isn’t just a dream.

He hopes to God it isn’t. He aches to see Natasha laughing at the Tower, to feel the warmth of Tony and Bucky wrapped around him and each other instead of the horror he felt watching them bash each other with metal fists and superhuman strength.

If this isn’t a dream though… He looks down at Tony and feels an affectionate warmth in his chest even as he remembers the gold that whitened his dark hair, the way Thanos and the dissolution of the Avengers aged him far more visibly than the years. He remembers the afternoon Tony gave him back his shield and feels compelled to say, hard as it is, “What about Morgan?”

Pain flashes across Tony’s face. Resolve replaces it. “We’ve seen where our timeline’s headed,” he says. “That’s not what I want for her. Or anyone.” He looks at Steve with haunted eyes. “It’s bad, Steve. Universally bad. _Literally_ universally bad. The universe is about to crash and burn—but you can stop it. You’re at enough nexus points that you can make big changes to the timeline with a few little wing-flaps where it counts.”

Steve’s heart breaks a little, hearing that. Morgan was Tony’s world. His life in the farmhouse Steve’s sleeping in was _happy_, and he died to defend it. That Tony thinks Steve should go back, knowing all these momentous changes will probably mean Morgan never exists, is… Steve wants to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, let him know he’s not alone in his grief, and can feel a warmth in his hand and chest as if he’s already done it… But he hesitates, then fists his fingers at his side to keep from reaching out. Even though Tony forgave him, even though he had words for Steve in the recording he made the morning they went back in time for the stones, Steve doesn’t think he has that right anymore.

Steve feels a second of vertigo and has a clear memory of himself saying, “What about Morgan?” and the pain on Tony’s face, and then Tony says the exact same thing he said seconds ago, in the exact same way, finishing with, “You’re at enough nexus points that you can make big changes to the timeline with a few little wing-flaps where it counts.”

Steve feels the impulse to put a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder again, feels the same warmth in his chest and hand, and—now—a spike of adrenalin. Touching Tony doesn’t feel _safe_, isn’t something Steve would do normally, but if time really will loop until he gets it right…

A sense of urgency thrums through his chest, like time is running out, his window is closing, so he just…does it. He reaches out and puts a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder.

And Tony doesn’t shrug it off. He smiles a little sadly, puts his hand over Steve’s, and squeezes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

“Can I tell people about the looping?” Steve asks, because he wants to ask if that’s what just happened, ask if this was a practice round that Tony and Natasha aren’t acknowledging.

“You can,” Natasha says, “but I’d keep it quiet if I were you. Most people won’t believe you, anyway.”

Steve hesitates. “So what just happened—that’s what the time loops will feel like?”

Natasha looks confused for a fraction of a second before smiling. “No one will remember what happened during the loop except you, and those memories will fade quickly after you’ve passed that nexus point. So. How long was the loop? What did you change?”

Steve squeezes Tony’s shoulder and looks at him, not wanting to admit what happened…but his tongue feels warm, and there’s a familiar warmth and adrenalin in his chest, so Steve says, “I reached out to Tony. Before, I was afraid to. I didn’t think you’d want that from me,” he tells Tony. “I didn’t realize that was a thing I could do.”

Tony pats his hand and turns to face Steve a little. His grin is rueful, expression wistful, and voice soft when he says, “There are a lot of things you could’ve done—you just never asked.”

It stops Steve’s breath, hearing him say what he’d said before kissing Steve at a party Steve would give anything to make reality. Before he can second-guess himself, he reels Tony into a hug. And Tony comes willingly, embraces Steve just as fiercely as Steve’s holding onto him.

“You’ll be okay, Cap,” Tony says.

“Just need to start asking?” Steve says.

“That’s about the size of it, yeah.”

Steve lets go of Tony with one arm to hug Natasha, who is alive for him right now, even if this all turns out to be a dream.

He really hopes it’s not just a dream.

He steps back to look at them, hands still on their shoulders because he doesn’t want to ever let them go, doesn’t want to wake up in a world without them in it, and asks, “Will I remember what happened before? Will I…” his throat closes on the memory of Tony vacant-eyed and burned nearly black, body propped up by his melted armor and the rubble of the Compound he built to help them all defend Earth.

“‘Fraid so,” Tony says, and pats Steve’s hand again.

Natasha looks off into nothing, then fixes her gaze on Steve. “It’s time. It was good to see you again, Steve.”

“It was,” Tony says, with that easy affection he’s shown since becoming a father. “But, needs must. Time for you to return the stones and save the universe.”

Natasha hugs Steve again and kisses his cheek. “You’ll do fine.”

Tony hugs Steve again and kisses his cheek, which tingles pleasantly at the point of contact. “You will.” He pats Steve’s back and moves to stand with Natasha, mouth curled in a playful grin Steve thought he’d never see again. “Now get flapping. Our mistakes won’t fix _themselves_.”

Everything goes white around him, and when Steve blinks away the brightness, he’s lying in a bedroom on the second floor of Tony’s farmhouse, wearing a gauntlet gripping the briefcase Tony built to house the stones they’d have to return. He can hear Bucky and Sam conversing instead of bickering in the hallway.

Steve mashes his head into the pillow and cries as silently as he can. He’s never wanted a dream to be real so much in his life, but there it is. He’s here, in his reality, and nothing has changed. Nat’s still dead, _Tony’s_ still dead, and he’s got a job to do.

So he does it.

He goes back in time. He goes to each location from which they took a stone, and returns it.

He stops midway through to dance with Peggy, and he admires the photos of her husband and children hanging up around the cozy home they’ve made together, and is happy she’s living a good life. They say the goodbye they weren’t able to the day Steve went into the ice, and he gets back to work.

He’s surprised to find Schmidt on Vormir, still more when Schmidt, with his cloaked red skull, wants to talk—wants to know about Earth, and Hydra, and whether his bombs went off. Steve tells him he crashed the ship, Hydra died when Schmidt did, and he and Bucky Barnes are still fighting side by side. It’s not exactly true, but it’s not a lie either. He feels a vicious glee at Schmidt’s disappointment. He tries to mask his pain when he throws the stone off the cliff and Natasha doesn’t come back, a soul for a soul.

He returns the time stone to 2012, and then the mind stone. He’s setting his time bracelet to send him home, to a time when two of his best friends are dead, when he feels a rush of vertigo like being hit by a tidal wave. Steve falls to his knees—

—and wakes up with the Tony Stark of 2012 frowning down at him. “Steady there, Cap,” he says. “Whatever voodoo the scepter did when it broke knocked you out.”

Steve is flat on his back in Avengers Tower, circa 2012, and his time bracelet is gone. So is the briefcase. He’s wearing the uniform Coulson designed way back when, and it’s ripped and bloody and covered in soot and grime and Chitauri blood. Moreover, he can _feel_ some of the injuries that damaged it.

Oh God, did it… Did he really…?

Steve blinks. Turns his head and finds it’s just him and Tony on a walkway covered in broken glass. Starts to sit up with a grunt.

Tony reaches a hand down to help him, and Steve feels a flash of warmth and adrenalin. He smiles up at Tony so wide he’s sure it’ll break his face, and hears—so softly normal ears would miss it—Tony’s breath catch. Steve takes Tony’s hand, accepts the offer of help even though he could’ve gotten up fine on his own, and is rewarded with the quiet pleasure on Tony’s face.

“Thanks,” Steve says when he’s sitting up. But he keeps Tony’s hand as he takes stock of his body. He still feels the warmth, edged in adrenalin. _We’re in the build-up_, he thinks. _Could last minutes or days._ Steve takes a fortifying breath. “Gimme a minute?”

Tony waits with him, still hunched over, and doesn’t complain or tease him or let go of his hand or shift in a way that indicates he wants to.

Steve looks at their joined hands and resolves to _ask_ this time around, even when he thinks he can’t. “Okay,” he says. “Help me up?”

Even before Tony grins down at him, Steve knows it was the right thing to do.

“Anytime, Cap,” Tony says, and pulls Steve to his feet.

Steve grins back. Already, the future feels a little bit brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading—I hope you enjoyed it! ^_^ If you did, please let me know via kudos/comments, which I absolutely love! ♥


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